


The Vampire's Visitor, or: Barnabas Collins Makes a Very Poor Decision

by midgardian_leviosa



Category: Dark Shadows (1966), Dark Shadows (2012)
Genre: BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Begging, Chains, Cock Tease, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Hand Jobs, No Plot/Plotless, Orgasm Control, PWP without Porn, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Premature Ejaculation, Smut, Teasing, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:53:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23042050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midgardian_leviosa/pseuds/midgardian_leviosa
Summary: Angelique gets Barnabas all chained up in his coffin and teased to the brink of insanity. Expect lots of boobs in faces, lots of writhing, and lots of stilted, sexy old-timey lingo. This is porn: no more, no less.There is NO blood or blood-play whatsoever in this fic.
Relationships: Angelique Bouchard Collins/Barnabas Collins
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	The Vampire's Visitor, or: Barnabas Collins Makes a Very Poor Decision

**Author's Note:**

> Background: Barnabas has been chained up and interred in the mausoleum for a few centuries. It’s true that he hasn’t had anything to eat since his untimely imprisonment, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t had any of his other hungers sated...
> 
> This is not really canon, as in the actual movie, he is immediately freed. But I just watched the Dark Shadows 2012 movie for the first time and couldn't resist a chained-up Johnny Depp hot vampire...
> 
> Thanks to Taffy for beta-ing!

Barnabas Collins awoke with a start. Through the thick material of his coffin, he could hear a “clack, clack, clack” growing louder.  _ Heels, _ he realized.  _ I hear someone in high heels approaching _ . He strained to see despite the pitch black surrounding him and wondered who it might be—did anyone in this age know who he was? What age  _ was _ it, anyway? But he was not left in the dark for long—he smiled a little at his clever pun—because someone wrenched the lid off his coffin with superhuman strength, and Barnabas was left blinking into the smirking face of Angelique.

“Why, hello there, Barney. Fancy meeting you here. Come here often?” She leaned over him, and her breasts hung just above his shocked face. His eyes may have been adjusting to the half-light of the room after decades in the dark, but he was not too blind to see  _ that _ .  _ Them. _ The thin fabric of her shirt did little to hide them from his hungry eyes. Had they always been that sizable, that  _ soft _ , that  _ luscious _ ? He had relived their last tryst over and over, lying immobile in that wretched box, unable to move even to touch himself, but he now could not recall ever having seen such exquisite breasts. He gaped at the perfectly round globes, eyes wide and mouth open, and unconsciously licked his lips. 

She giggled, a malevolent sound, which made them jiggle and bump his nose. “Oh, no, I suppose you don’t  _ come _ here often at all. Tell me, my dear, sweet Barnabas, have you been able to come even once since my last visit...oh, when was it?” Angelique looked at her wrist as if checking a watch. “A century ago?” 

Barnabas ignored the question and tried to frown, but he could not tear his eyes away from her breasts. “Every word makes them heave,” he whispered to himself, accustomed to solitude. She cackled. “Like them, do you? Plastic surgery has come a long way since you went under. But you probably don’t even know what that is.” 

He said nothing. The mausoleum was completely silent for a long moment.

“I hate you,” he said. “Leave me.”

She leaned just a bit more, and her breasts  _ finally _ landed on his face. He let out a soft moan and rattled his chains, trying to press more firmly against them, before getting control of himself once more. 

“But Barnabas, my dear, are you sure you want me to go? Wouldn’t you rather that I release you?”

He craned to look her in the eyes, managing only to get another faceful of bosom. “Would you? Would you truly release me? Is this not another trick?” 

Angelique grabbed his hair in her manicured hand and shoved his face firmly against her breasts, smothering him. “A trick? Why, why ever would you think that, Barney? So suspicious.”

He said nothing; his mouth seemed to have a mind of its own, licking and biting as much of her soft bosom as it could get. 

“I’ll let you out in five minutes if you still want me to,” she continued. “I’ll break the chains around your arms...” She ran her hands down his arms, tracing the chains, and he shivered. “...and your legs…” She trailed her fingers up from his feet, tracing around and around each loop, snaking up his body. Her fingers rolled over his groin and he gasped and bucked his hips inadvertently into her touch. “...and across that gorgeous chest of yours,” she went on, continuing to follow her voice with teasing fingers. 

“Enough,” he panted, voice unsteady. “You won’t fool me again. I know your tricks, temptress. You won’t— _ ah! _ ” Barnabas broke off with a moan, feeling her hand squeezing his straining cock. 

“I won’t what? What was that, my dear?” she mocked. “I’m sure I will, whatever it is. I can feel how  _ happy _ you are to see me. You are always such an  _ eager _ lover.” She punctuated each word with a squeeze. Barnabas lay powerless. The only movement the chains allowed was a slight raising of his head so he could watch her through wide, disbelieving eyes as she began to rub his cock firmly through the fabric of his trousers.

He struggled to keep his voice steady. “No,” he breathed, “Not again. I won’t give in to your trickery. Witch,” he added as an afterthought, as if it would help.

She merely laughed and added more pressure, making his hips twitch. “Oh, I assure you, Barnabas, I’m not using any magic on you. This is nothing but your own desire. You want this, darling. You want  _ me _ .” She gritted her teeth and sped up, suddenly, and the fierce possessiveness he saw in her eyes terrified him as much as it aroused him. 

He could not help it; it felt  _ so _ good after a hundred years with no stimulation, not even his own hand. He writhed as much as the chains allowed, and the mausoleum filled with sounds of clanking metal and half-stifled guttural groaning. 

Then, just as suddenly, it stopped. Barnabas found his hips rocking into thin air as Angelique took a step away. He stared.

“What are you looking at? Want something?” she said, hand on her hip.

“N-no,” he said.

“That sounded  _ convincing _ ,” she replied. “Are you sure there isn’t  _ anything _ you want from me?” With a snap of her fingers, her flimsy shirt disappeared. Barnabas’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull. They were  _ even better _ than he remembered. She strolled toward him and leant over his face again. “Nothing  _ at all _ , Barnabas?” She traced her long fingernails along his cheek, lightly scraping his lips, first the top lip, then the bottom, and he could not stop his tongue from shooting out to taste her.

“Mmm, I do love that tongue of yours. No, no, don’t stop, Barnabas, you can keep licking my finger if you want to. And I  _ know _ you want to.” Angelique straightened up. “No? Well, I don’t think it’s been five minutes, do you? It isn’t time to unlock you just yet. Perhaps I can convince you to tell the truth about how much you desire me.” 

She stepped back so Barnabas could watch as she lifted her skirt and slid a finger inside of herself. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, but she could not resist looking into Barnabas’s hungry eyes as she fucked herself. She gasped and whimpered and moaned his name a bit more than was strictly necessary, but it had the desired effect—Barnabas’s jaw hung open and he squirmed against the chains. “Oh, Barnabas, look at you strain; look how your cock is tenting your trousers,” she moaned, “you want to sink deep inside me  _ so badly _ . Why— _ oh, fuck!— _ try to deny it?” She felt herself getting close, and she moved the hand that had been holding her skirt so she could rub her clit. Her moans and gasps were no longer fake, and she locked eyes with Barnabas as she tumbled over the edge of orgasm.

Barnabas gaped. He had been certain that there was nothing more arousing in the universe. But then she had withdrawn her finger and walked over to him on shaky legs. She had placed her finger, dripping with her juices, into his gaping mouth, and with the roughest, sexiest, lowest voice he had ever heard, purred, “How does it taste, Barnabas?” As he licked off every bit of her essence from her finger, he decided that there was, indeed, something more arousing, and it was this, now.

“It’s been five minutes, Barnabas,” she said in that irresistible voice. “If you’d like, I will  _ release _ you now.” Angelique paused, as if Barnabas would not have picked up on that little innuendo, as if he was not achingly hard and suckling on her finger, desperate for every drop of her. “If you want me to, I will snap my fingers and loose the chains, and you may walk away from here and never see me again.” She paused. “Well, it’s a small town, so I can’t promise that you won’t see me, but...at least, never  _ touch _ me again,” she said, pulling her finger out of his mouth.

He whined at the loss.

“Or,” she continued, “I will... _ release _ you, if you know what I mean.” She grabbed the obvious bulge in his trousers. “I will make you come, right here, right now. And then I will close this coffin and lock this mausoleum for another hundred years, with you inside. And then, a century from now, I will return. Again.”

Barnabas tried to steady his breathing, tried to think clearly, but all he could feel was her nails scratching up and down his cock through the fabric, sending shocks through his body, and all he could see were her gorgeous breasts. How he longed to be inside her, to feel her lips on his, to see her beautiful neck exposed for him as she threw her head back in pleasure that only he could give her! Barnabas knew the battle had been lost before it had begun, just as it had one hundred years before, and one hundred years before that.

"Fine, vile siren. I agree," Barnabas conceded, casting his eyes down. He avoided her gaze as she quickly unzipped his pants and took out his throbbing cock. He pointedly bit his lip and looked anywhere but at her when she spat in both hands and— _ oh GOD _ —wrapped both around him and slid his cock through, one tight fist after another after another, slick and fast.

The chains kept Barnabas from moving his arms or legs, but he managed to squirm around pathetically, arching his back with every touch of her talented fingers. He imagined how good she would feel straddling his body and lowering herself onto him, how her walls would grip his shaft; any moment now, he was sure, she would still her hands and move to slip him into her. Any. Moment. Now. 

But her hands never slowed, milking him with tight, relentless fists, such that it felt like he was sinking into one never ending tunnel. It was too much, too fast, and he felt the telltale signs that he was going to come, soon,  _ oh, no, fuck, RIGHT NOW-!  _ She laughed as his whole body stiffened and he shouted and spurted another load all over his clothes (last century's had long since faded into a pale stain). Without so much as waiting for him to soften, she tucked him back into his pants, kissed his clammy forehead, and closed the lid of the coffin. 

Muffled as it was, just before the “clack, clack, clack” of her footsteps faded, he heard her say, "You're always the same. Enjoy spending the next century wondering whether that thirty seconds was worth it..."

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate title: Fangs for the Mammaries.
> 
> Comments make me happy!


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